[Fic] Sihan/Eunhae/Henhae smut prompts
Jun. 26th, 2012 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coley_merrinTitle: Sihan/Eunhae/Henhae smut prompts
Author: Coley Merrin
Pairings: Siwon/Han Geng, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Henry/Donghae
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut
Summary: Various smutlets with prompt info marked before each one, so pay attention!
A/N: These haven't been edited besides my own eyes trying, so please excuse any mistakes.
***
Prompt: Siwon/Han Geng - spaceship AU
***
Han Geng was trained for pleasure. Siwon knew it from the moment they’d met, and when a year later, he’d successfully negotiated a contract to haul Han Geng with them to various locations to meet with his clients. It put money in Siwon’s pocket, which meant money to be spent on the ship itself.
Siwon had not, as Han Geng’s overseer suggested, sampled the wares. He was not peddling Han Geng, did not negotiate on his behalf, or bring him business.
But it had taken little enough time to be glad he had not taken that offer. It hadn’t been the time he’d had to beat down one of Han Geng’s clients, leaving Siwon injured, bloody and Han Geng bruised and angry at the client’s audacity.
It had been later, when Han Geng had hugged him, thanked him.
He’d nearly kissed Han Geng then, a moment that had stuck in both their minds. Siwon knew then, that he was in desperate trouble.
***
“I knew someone like him once,” Kyuhyun said. “I left him, because I had no choice. Someday, who knows. But you could get him out of it.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Siwon argued. “I can’t buy him out. We barely cover the ship repairs.”
“You could buy him out. He could buy himself out. Sell his ship.”
“He needs that,” Siwon scoffed. “And it’s not his to sell.”
“Not if he needs you more. Sell it, claim it was stolen. Buy him out. You’ll take a hit on the price if the owner has to keep it hidden awhile, but you could do it.”
“Why do I keep you around?” Siwon asked.
“I’m the best navigator there is,” Kyuhyun said, grinning.
***
It stuck in his brain.
“What if I told you we could buy you out?”
Han Geng’s eyebrows raised. “I’d ask what you’ve been drinking. Or what cache you had remembered.”
“I was talking to Kyuhyun.”
It was arousing to him to watch Han Geng’s mind work, frowning as Siwon laid out Kyuhyun’s thoughts, and his own. He’d taken two days, thinking. He knew one man, he trusted. They were scarce, and most would sell Siwon out in a heartbeat.
In theory, the more Han Geng worked, the closer he got to being free. But in reality, people like Han Geng never got free unless someone came up with a sum to buy them outright.
“What would you expect to receive after I was free?” Han Geng asked.
“It’s your money doing it, so what would I receive?”
“I have almost no skills. Once free, if I stayed here on the ship, then what? The crew would grumble if I was just weight to be hauled.”
Siwon scowled. “You underestimate the crew. They think highly of you. But you could find your place. If you wanted a place with me, you have it.”
“So your lover would be my position.” Han Geng slid onto Siwon’s lap. “If that is all you want, you could have it any time.”
Siwon grasped Han Geng’s sides. “You know that’s not all I want.” That was not all either of them had wanted.
The night Han Geng had broken his heart, they had been planetside, wrapped together in a blanket in front of a small fire. When Han Geng confessed he dreamed of being held by the same person more than once. Siwon had held him, and that had been all he’d done. With a gun poised beside his knee, and Han Geng dreaming against him. Months ago.
“Silk,” Siwon said, slipping back to the moment and finally noting what his hands were touching against Han Geng’s sides. “Is that real silk?”
It was hard to tell, and certainly Siwon had been in contact with a lot of synthetic silk. But the feel was different. It was like soft air under his fingers, and Han Geng smiled.
“Yes, it’s real. It was a gift.”
“You could buy out a big chunk of your contract just selling these.”
“You’d sell my clothes, too? You don’t like me in them?”
“I do!” Siwon scrambled to rectify his mistake, until he realized that Han Geng was teasing.
“I’ve been with a lot of people who didn’t want to share me.”
“They weren’t in love with you.”
“They were by the time I was done with them,” Han Geng said.
He was silent, because he knew Han Geng knew what he meant. What Siwon felt, what they both felt, had nothing to do with Han Geng’s talents.
“If we do this, if it takes too long, can you promise not to be angry if there are others?”
Siwon shook his head. “No, I can’t. And that’s why we can’t, until you’re free to make your own decisions.”
“You have no idea how long that might take!”
“I don’t want you for just one night. You’re a part of my crew, my life. I want you in my bed, and I want you to stay because you want to stay with me. Not because I’m being paid to keep you.” Siwon let his hands slide from Han Geng’s sides.
Han Geng grabbed one, their fingers tight together. “You know I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
With anyone else.
“Then we’ll work fast.”
***
Siwon found a box half full of silk clothing in his room the next day. He knew what it was, an offering.
It was sentiment that had him drawing out his favorite piece, a red and black robe that he had seen Han Geng in several times. It had made him want, and he knew Han Geng loved it. He folded it, set it aside. He would not keep it if it meant Han Geng was owned for one more second, but it did not have to be sold first.
***
Han Geng waited for him, clad in silk. The second ship was gone, hidden, stolen. It had only been on loan to Han Geng from the man who owned his contract, but there were always ways of getting rid of things. The money filtered through jobs, planets. It took weeks, a lucky break. So much paperwork for a stolen ship, as Han Geng worked in the meantime in borrowed quarters.
It burned Siwon to know they had the funds to procure Han Geng’s freedom, and at the same time could not use them.
But they finally had been able to. Han Geng’s yearly return to be counted, checked. It was the only time he could bid for his freedom, and Siwon had been beside him.
There had been a celebratory dinner on the ship the night they knew Han Geng was free, and Siwon had been called to look at a leaky air system directly after. Constant maintenance, vigilance. It had been a strange bolt to come loose, was all. Stranger still to be noticed. But he’d repaired it, and checked the length of the vent for good measure.
Han Geng had been on his mind for the whole of the repair, but finding Han Geng in his room, sitting on his bed, had been far from what he’d expected. Things had been tense between them, ever since Han Geng’s ship had been sold. Siwon, unsure of what Han Geng would choose once he had the ability to. Whether he would choose Siwon, or find a different ship. But what he didn’t want was to pressure Han Geng. Han Geng knew he was wanted.
And he was there.
“We’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?” Han Geng asked.
“Yes,” Siwon said. And he breathed in. It was imagination that had him scenting Han Geng in the air, in the warmth of the room.
“You kept this for me,” Han Geng said, as Siwon came even with him on the bed.
“It suits you.”
“Join me?”
He could feel Han Geng’s eyes on him, as he stripped off his shirt. Licking his lips, and half wondering if he should leave his trousers on. The length of Han Geng’s bare legs beneath the robe, his arched neck as he looked up at Siwon.
But he kept his underwear on, small enough armor. But he’d barely sat down, twisting to turn toward Han Geng, when a thud sounded from the ship somewhere. Siwon stared over his shoulder, trying to listen and see if the sound was repeated.
“Well, we’re not exploding. That’s a good sign,” he said, smiling at Han Geng. He reached, hand tentative as he ran his thumb along Han Geng’s jaw. “You’re here because you want to be.”
It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement, but that didn’t keep Han Geng’s eyes from softening.
“Because I’ve wanted to be here for a long time. And you can finally believe that.”
“I knew,” and Siwon winced. “That wasn’t a secret either of us kept. But I knew if I touched you, knowing someone else would come next would kill me. As long as I knew you weren’t mine— I don’t need to own you. But when you’re with me…”
“Shh. I know. Siwon…”
That was a plea. And his hand notched into Han Geng’s waist, nuzzling into Han Geng’s face. The softest kiss against Han Geng’s cheek, their noses meeting. And it was Han Geng who moved them, pulling Siwon’s shoulder, pulling Siwon’s mouth against his. There was finesse to it, the art of moving together, finding out how lip fit to lip. He wanted to be patient, he tried for it. Inhaling, pleading. Until Han Geng made a soft sound, deep in his throat. Silken, low, and needing.
He parted them only for a moment, undoing the belt of Han Geng’s robe and exposing skin it had been almost a year since he’d seen. But then, Han Geng hadn’t been meaning to show him, hadn’t meant to make him want. And beneath the robe, there was nothing but Han Geng. Cloth giving way to warm skin as Han Geng’s shoulders rose and shed it. And then they were curling together, skin to skin.
They had waited too long.
He growled, shuddered as Han Geng’s nails scraped across his back, and he fought for Han Geng’s mouth, as Han Geng pressed back. The tease of Han Geng’s tongue, his teeth. The shimmer of his skin under Siwon’s hands, and the proof of his arousal.
“What do you want?” Siwon asked.
“You in me. I have so much I want to do— But I want, I want—“
“Yes,” Siwon almost whispered, his voice too hoarse for anything else.
Yes, as Han Geng gripped him, moved him. Moved him so that he could get one slim, strong arm around Siwon’s neck and hold him for a kiss that had Siwon’s soul turning to jelly. It was of lovers long parted. If anything in the whole exhausting day had made him question what was real, Han Geng’s fingers stroking his neck, and lips meeting his would have grounded him. After a moment, Han Geng’s head dropped back, considering Siwon.
“I have been with men who wanted to abuse me. Who used me for nothing but their own pleasure. I’ve been with ones who wanted nothing more than to see me spill for them, as many times as I could. What kind of man are you?”
Siwon cupped his face, letting their lips be parted by little more than breaths. “I want everything you want to give me. And to give you everything I dreamed. I want your pleasure, and I want my own. Is that too much?”
“Not too much. I’ve seen you naked a few times, when you were hurt.” Han Geng bit his lip, and Siwon felt it. “I imagined it was you, sometimes. That is the last thing we’re supposed to do.”
Siwon smiled down at him. “Then I’ll try to be better than they were.”
“You need only to breathe to accomplish that.” And there was some embarrassment, even as Han Geng’s body arched for him.
And he would do more than breathe.
But Han Geng slipped a vial from under the pillow and wet his hands.
“For you,” Han Geng said. “I’m already ready.”
And Siwon’s mind gurgled.
He had to school his face as Han Geng’s cool, wet hands slid over him. Had he not been hard already, Han Geng’s touch would have rocked him. As it was, it nearly broke him. The look of concentration, the curving smile of satisfaction. He liked what he felt, and so did Siwon, running his hands up Han Geng’s thighs. Siwon had never, ah, had cause to doubt his manhood but that Han Geng, of all men, would be pleased—
“Will you hold the others against me?”
There had me, and women. There had been more than Siwon had cared to count, but also many he had not lowered his attention to. He’d long reconciled the conflict of his feelings to Han Geng’s place. No longer, as Han Geng lifted his hips, and guided Siwon to him.
“There were no others,” Siwon told him, and slid inside him.
None that mattered. None that would make him take that smile off of Han Geng’s face. And there would be doubt, too. Han Geng was far from naive.
Han Geng was warm, sleek, body both tight and giving as Siwon uttered half-spoken curses. His knees finding purchase, hands tight on Han Geng’s hips. He’d found his place, he’d mark it.
The man he’d waited years for was staring back at him.
It was the most physical act, bowing over Han Geng’s body, meeting those hips thrust for thrust. Han Geng’s gasps, the grasping of Siwon’s shoulders. Hands racing down his sides and up his chest. Lips clinging to his, sucking them. It was a race to madness, like a tremble in his bones when he opened his eyes to Han Geng. When Han Geng strained to meet him, moaning against his neck. Hand grasping at the pillow as though it would hold him, and Siwon covered it with his own. Holding it, pressing it. Raising up higher for a new angle, new speed as Han Geng cried out. It was selfish that he had done it to make it feel better for him, but somehow, he’d done the same for Han Geng.
“Will you come for me?” Siwon ground out, wiping sweat off of his chin.
Han Geng laughed, breathless. And shameless, as his hand reached, forcing Siwon’s to follow it, only to watch Han Geng take a solid, steady stroke.
“If you say please,” Han Geng teased him.
The Han Geng that filled him with joy, the one who made him laugh, was his friend. That was the man in bed with him. The man who was flushed, hard and eager.
“Please. Please. Please,” Siwon said, punctuating his words with kisses up Han Geng’s neck. And he missed watching Han Geng’s face, but it was the effect he wanted. Speaking low and close to Han Geng’s ear. “Please. Come for me. Han Geng.”
Siwon hissed, as Han Geng’s body bucked. The fire had already been lit, but the heat was spreading. He could see it in Han Geng’s eyes, feel it as his body tightened, pleaded. He glanced down to see Han Geng stroking himself and nearly came right there. Siwon. Siwon. One hand a painful fist as he watched Han Geng’s face and reached the point at which he could go no faster, climb no higher.
He came first. Han Geng’s body, the scent of him, his sounds. His whole body was seized with it, gasping and conscious of nothing but the high and the release.
Han Geng’s moans like a caress, the desperate drag of air. The scent of him.
The fingers that were curling into his hair, tugging almost painfully on his scalp. His face to Han Geng’s, as Han Geng stroked himself.
“For me,” Han Geng gasped, and Siwon kissed him, still struggling for breath himself.
And Han Geng came for him, body tight. Breaking the kiss to breathe and moan and curse against Siwon’s face.
Han Geng. Han Geng, sweaty at the temples, along his throat. Swallowing, breathing as his eyes cleared. The hand Han Geng had gripped his hair with loosened, and Siwon took it, kissing it.
And Han Geng laughed at him. It was so absurd, so unreal. And yet, there they were.
Siwon’s discarded shirt cleaned up the bulk of the mess, but it was the only thing he could reach without leaving the bed. Stretched out against Han Geng’s side, he felt something beyond satisfaction.
“We’re equals now,” Siwon said.
Han Geng turned his head a bit more. “You’re still my captain.”
“We’re equals here.”
That was the important thing, had ever been the most important. Han Geng could leave him at any time, but Siwon needed to know that. He also needed to know that Han Geng stayed because he could, not because he had to. Han Geng’s value had no price. And if they had to run, they would run together.
“Was it everything you hope it would be?” Han Geng asked.
“No,” Siwon said, kissing Han Geng’s shoulder before smiling up at him. “It was just the start of it.”
Han Geng pressed his face close to Siwon’s, and Siwon wanted to kiss his closed eyelids, see what Han Geng hid from him there. And he watched as Han Geng bit his lip, the smile curving a bit.
“You’ll teach me to fly the ship?”
He’d have to fight Kyuhyun for it, but maybe. It’d be helpful to have another person with as much knowledge as Han Geng had or could learn on board. But there was time to figure it out, Siwon thought as he pulled the blanket up over them, and ogled Han Geng’s hip and leg as he did so.
They were still wound together, when they slept. And though Han Geng had quarters of his own, the fact that he was naked in Siwon’s bed, seemed to indicate he was staying. And Siwon liked that very much.
He didn’t wake alone.
***
Prompt: Han Geng/Siwon - (Where Han Geng tops Siwon). You can make it playful or serious, but it’s tough to write.
***
He should’ve hated it, the reminder of the distance Siwon put between them.
He loved it.
He loved the control, and he feared the implications.
Siwon wasn’t gay, you see. He’d never been gay, would have expired on the spot if someone had tried to imply he was. He wasn’t gay because his precious straight penis had never been inserted into a gay man’s contagious gay ass. Which meant, of course, he had plausible deniability. He could lie to himself as long as there were hours in the day.
A mouth was different, obviously. Fucking Han Geng’s mouth was fair game, eagerly accepted. That wasn’t sex, that was just…sharing. Sharing the benefits of his manhood.
That was how Han Geng thought of it. Siwon never said those things. And to his credit, he did not make Han Geng feel like less of a person for it - even when he was the one fucking Siwon’s mouth. At least that standard ran both ways. Siwon was hungry for it, would have sucked him all day, and that was why it gave him that twinge.
Siwon wasn’t gay. He was just being fucked by a gay man, and loving it.
Sometimes he thought Siwon would love for him to tie him up, and just do whatever he wanted to him. Then Siwon wouldn’t be responsible for his choices. They’d have to have safe words, and boundaries. He could try and see what Siwon felt like inside him, and Siwon would just say he’d had no choice, a one time thing. That became twice, or three times, and began to erode at Siwon’s confidence that he could change his mind any time and walk away.
Han Geng didn’t trust that. He didn’t push it. He didn’t ask for it, even if he knew in his gut it was what Siwon wanted. The status quo was hard enough to keep with the occasional crises, when Siwon would look at him with such sadness, and accusation, and fear.
If only he didn’t love Han Geng so much, if only Han Geng weren’t so attractive to him.
He tried not to let it give him a complex, but every time it was a blow to the stomach. Siwon never meant it to be, he knew that. Siwon nearly crushed him after those time, breathing into his skin. It was broken, and messed up, and he wouldn’t have turned Siwon away. Despite the worry, he loved Siwon, too. And he harbored some stupid hope, naive, irrational, that Siwon would wake up one day and lose his inhibitions and tell him to fuck labels, they loved each other no matter what.
But until then, they had what they had.
What they had was good, dented, but strong. Hours of kisses sprawled against Siwon’s chest. If Siwon’s body was perfect to the eyes, it was even more perfect to the touch.
Even fresh from the shower he still smelled faintly of musk.
And on his bed, Siwon was beneath him. Silken slides, the condom Siwon had rolled on him, the sweat dripping off his nose.
But he liked it best when Siwon was on his knees, begging Han Geng to take him. Even his dirty talk was sweet and somehow distant, so many pleas, and endearments, and repetitions of his name, but Han Geng heard it for what it was. Watching Siwon’s shoulders bunch as he steadied himself against Han Geng’s thrusts, moans silken and dirty from Siwon’s throat. Hands bunched in the covers, hands that had jerked Han Geng off, cradled his face, held his hand. A hundred touches to his back, his shoulder, that told him he was loved.
Even if Siwon couldn’t give him everything.
And Siwon was hard. So hard, as though the knowledge he was being fucked was lighting him up inside. Fucking back, spreading his legs, gripping at Han Geng’s thigh to get him deeper. He always made sure Siwon came first, selfish, for Siwon to know why he’d felt that. Because Han Geng was in him, not just some random hand job.
That night was no different, Siwon’s cock twitching in his hand as Han Geng hissed and stroked harder. Almost losing control of his hips as he gripped and teased.
“Fuck, Siwon, now,” he said, and closed his hand tight to give Siwon the sensation that he was fucking something. Someone. Not that he was bitter, not that he’d have turned it down. Maybe some day.
Siwon complied, and came.
But with semen cooling on the sheets, he gripped Siwon’s hips, admired the perfect body, and took his own reward as Siwon moaned for him.
Siwon had stripped away his confidence and control.
And then handed it all right back.
***
Prompt: Eunhyuk/Donghae - fae!au, business!au. I have a recent thing for business(*hyuk being bent over a desk*) and...wings.
***
The day the new vice-president was announced was a day of change. Sitting at the long conference table, then standing, then bowing, as Lee Donghae was introduced with a smile. They were not the board, but they were the ones who would be under him. Their new vice-president who had not worked a day with the company.
There had been scoffs, jokes, wondering if the boss wanted to run the company into the ground so badly as to install his only son.
But when Hyukjae saw Donghae, he knew better.
***
“I hear I’m to report to you for a few weeks,” Donghae said, falling into step with him not long after the meeting. “My father says you’ll be the best one to shadow.”
“Does a vice-president report to an underling?” Hyukjae wondered. Then cursed his mouth, as that sounded a bit too much like a put-down.
“They do if they want to orient themselves to the company as fast as possible. I’ve spent time in my father’s other businesses, but he wants me to ultimately succeed him here. So I really appreciate your help. According to your file, we’re the same age.”
“Though you’re my boss. I’ll be glad to help you out. Just come to me.”
And not just that. The old man was nothing out of the ordinary. A human of decent birth who’d built up a decent empire.
But Donghae was not human. Either his mother or had married advantageously. Or he was a changeling.
Either way, he was fae.
***
At first he didn’t know if Donghae realized there was anything different about him. Some kept their power locked up so tight as to be almost imperceptible. Donghae didn’t do quite as good of a job, a subtle sheen, a brightness about his smile at times giving him away. Things that drew humans in, made them trust. Things that he was immune to.
But they had worked together for two weeks, Donghae invading his office, trading jokes, frowning at his laptop as they prepared for meetings, before Hyukjae knew.
“What color are yours?” Donghae asked, brushing Hyukjae’s back as they waited for the elevator.
“What?” he asked, looking up a bit too sharply.
And Donghae smiled and stepped forward as the doors opened.
***
Three months, and Donghae had settled in. He had a bright mind, something not unexpected. In his power suit, speaking to the board, to clients, to their staff, he was firm and charismatic. Hyukjae, even knowing what Donghae was, was impressed.
And not just for the way the expensively tailored pants fit Donghae’s ass.
But that didn’t distract him from his goal: promotion. He would never own the company, but he could be in Donghae’s spot one day as vice-president. Lucrative, powerful. Together, they could grow the company from its small and growing roots, to something enormous. It was all there. Hyukjae had felt it from his very first day.
***
“Why are you here?” Donghae asked.
“To work?” Hyukjae responded, his six month status to Donghae sitting unfinished.
“You know what I mean.”
Donghae, tie undone and collar unfastened, sat on the edge of Hyukjae’s desk.
“To make money? To observe?”
“To gain power?” Donghae asked.
Hyukjae leaned back. “If I earn it.”
“But you know you’ll always be under me. I could move you to a different company. You could be CEO one day.”
“But I’d still be under you, sir,” Hyukjae said.
Donghae stood, looking down Hyukjae’s body. “True. You’ll have that promotion,” he said, and left.
***
“Why would you not want power for yourself?” Donghae asked.
He had called Hyukjae into his office for a meeting. A luxurious office, compared to Hyukjae’s small one, with wide swaths of windows. But it was dark, most all employees long gone. He was there because he had to be, and it wasn’t for the plush carpet under his feet. They were building to something, but he didn’t quite know what. Donghae had not stayed seated long, standing by his desk, across the corner from Hyukjae. And Hyukjae sighed.
“You don’t understand. The house is not stronger than its foundation. You’ll rely on your vice-president.”
“And you intend it to be you?”
“With what we both are? How could it not be?” Hyukjae asked, laughing.
“I could fire you. I could find a way.” But Donghae sounded more thoughtful, stepping close. “You said you would stay under me. How many ways did you mean?”
Donghae gripped his tie, but did not pull. It was not threat. It was an offer. Perhaps, a trade. For them to size each other up, show their true power, what could not be shown in a boardroom. It was something they had been working toward from the very first day, locking eyes across the boardroom.
Hyukjae smiled down. “Lock the door, and let’s see.”
Donghae’s hand fell. “Then drop your pants.”
Just like that, then, he thought, fumbling open his belt. And then on a thought, shrugging out of his jacket as well, and loosening his collar. He’d need to be able to breathe, no matter what they were doing. For some reason he’d thought Donghae would want him on his knees. Maybe another time.
But he fought the urge to tug down the ends of shirt. There was a couch. The desk. And he could practically feel Donghae looking at his thighs as he approached.
Strong hands turned his hips, pushed him, until he was facedown above the desk.
“Nice,” Donghae said, stroking his hips and ass. “Now show me.”
“Show you?”
“What you are. Show me your true self.”
The back of his shirt ripped in two, half strangling him a moment, but it was clear what Donghae wanted.
It was not as though the wings were hidden. They were forever a part of himself. And it was not as though that revealing them would have been impeded by the shirt, he thought grumpily. Donghae had just wanted to see more. Have more control. It took nothing more than a thought to make them visible. His true self, as Donghae had said. Light as air, and substantial at the same time. They were pure magic.
His wings were gold and black, a shower of sunlight and contrast, blinding to those who were not fae. He looked back, startled as Donghae’s wings covered his, a cap of gold and green along his.
It marked them as equals.
“I will be your master in business,” Donghae told him, hand steady on his back. “But like this, we command no one.”
But command or not, Donghae knew control. He knew it, not by force, but by what Donghae did next. It was control, by hitting Hyukjae at his basest level. The press of lips between his wings, along his spine.
A tongue tracing a too-sensitive edge.
He held his breath, almost preternaturally sensing Donghae’s teeth before they scraped along skin. Too close to his wing. It would not tear - could not from something so insignificant as a bite, but they had been hidden so long, used to only air.
He had not had a fae lover in the span of several human lifetimes. And Donghae knew every weakness.
He gasped, senses hit too hard as Donghae’s licked his back, hand closing around his erection, just as his pants slid the rest of the way - and the buckle jangled on the floor. At the jolt, the startle, Donghae laughed.
“You’re so hard, you’re aching!” Donghae said, his voice almost a touch surprised.
“You know how sensitive our wings are,” Hyukjae accused.
“Yeah, but I didn’t— Yeah. Hyukjae… Why are you here?”
“To work?” Hyukjae asked, confused. Addled, even, because Donghae hadn’t let go of his cock.
“No.” And even more distracting, Donghae got closer, bending into Hyukjae’s body, and hard against Hyukjae’s ass. “Here. With me.”
His face heated and he dropped it low, as though Donghae was in danger of seeing. “Because I want you?”
“Why?” Donghae pressed.
“Because I like you, you ass! Are you going to fuck me or not?”
Okay, so impatience hadn’t really worked. Donghae was almost bawling with laughter against him, chest distractingly flattening him to the desk and moving against his wings.
“And you’re heavy,” Hyukjae added. “You can be under me next time.”
Donghae seemed to get hold of himself, pressing a sloppy kiss between Hyukjae’s wings. “I like you, too. And I’ll look forward to that.”
It was magic that slicked Donghae, and neither minded. Alone, together, such things weren’t dangerous. The lube that wouldn’t run dry he thought, almost chuckled, and thought better of it as Donghae filled him.
His hands slid on papers as he tried to brace himself. To keep his groin from sliding painfully up and against the desk edge. They fell as he batted them, the mess not as important as adjusting to Donghae’s stroking. Both that of his hips and hand along Hyukjae’s length, and also of his nose along the sensitive middle of his back.
Had Donghae been in the possession of an extra hand or two, he imagined he’d have been at Hyukjae’s nipples as well. He seemed to be hitting every other point of pleasure.
The edges of Donghae’s shirt against his skin. Next time on a flat surface, where they could touch. Fuck, they hadn’t even kissed. And he groaned imagining it, to feel Donghae’s nose running against his.
“What?” Donghae asked, wanting to know.
“You didn’t even kiss me.”
Though that came out plaintive, high and strained as Donghae braced himself, took a new rhythm.
“I will,” Donghae promised. “I won’t stop kissing you. Hyukjae.”
His voice changed, rough on Hyukjae’s name, and the words he spoke then had no meaning in the language they had been conversing. They were ancient words. Ones of lust, that sent a thrum through his blood, fingers digging into the desk, even his wings pushing to steady himself.
And they were words of promise, gasped against the skin of Hyukjae’s back.
It was not for a day, not just for one single moment. Promises written in words, and the rubbing of their wings. A connection as old as the stones.
He whispered Hyukjae’s true name, one he had never uttered since meeting Donghae, and Hyukjae came. Left shuddering into the desk, as Donghae took him, kept him, until Donghae had found his own pleasure. And he was wrung out, Donghae covering him, draping him wings and all.
He didn’t ask how Donghae had known his name. Maybe Donghae had always known. He would be beside Donghae when Donghae took over the company, and they would see.
And as soon as he had strength in his arms, the ability to do more than smile and breathe with his cheek pressed to the desk, he was taking Donghae up on those kisses.
***
Prompt: Donghae/Henry - "Sukira Q: What special romantic event would you do? Donghae: When I am getting married or when the girl that I really like appears, I would put candles on a red carpet for an area of about 100m to 150m…YS: It's very dangerous, what if it catches fire?"
***
He couldn’t feel the heat from the candles, but they shone off the polished surface of his shoes, dozens of them stretching out in front of him.
Lock the doors behind you, Donghae had texted.
It was an unfamiliar hotel, and the hotel staff guided him, disappearing discreetly as he eased the door open.
He almost forgot to lock the heavy double doors. The gigantic ballroom alight from heavy chandeliers, and a dark red carpet stretching from the door, into the room. Candles burning, several per step as he followed the path to where Donghae stood. In a suit, just as he’d asked Henry to dress, watching Henry approach.
When the person I like appears, I would put candles on a red carpet.
It was as if he was a celebrity, but they weren’t, to each other. He licked his lips, and kept walking.
It was nothing like what he’d been expecting, dancing light and Donghae’s smile. A special dinner, he’d thought to expect that. A surprise party. It felt like his knees got stiff as he walked, to keep himself from stopping and just trying to process what it was that Donghae was telling him.
Donghae’s head tipped up as Henry stepped up to him.
“You made it.”
“Yeah,” Henry breathed. “This—“
“You know what this is?”
He studied Donghae’s eyes in the light from the chandeliers. “Yeah.”
The others had teased him endlessly for it. How dangerous it was. Henry could have told them that the candles were on heavy, wide bases, but he wasn’t thinking of safety. He was thinking of Donghae’s mouth. How soft it looked. How soft it felt, right then, in greeting. It really was Donghae, lips tight together and curving up before helplessly laughing.
If Henry knew, that was all that mattered, that smile seemed to say. He didn’t even know what to say, clutching inside as Donghae took his hand.
“Let’s eat, if you’re hungry.”
He was. And for the first time, he saw the table set up, the covered dishes, and two candles burning there as well.
“This is…so much,” Henry said. Beyond the table, pillows, but that was all he glanced at. Too focused on the food, still warm on hot plates, and on Donghae sitting across from him. He wanted to ask, badly, what the occasion was. If there even was an occasion. It was like a hundred other dates, or just times where they sat with the others, eating, joking. In nicer clothes, with different lighting. So much preparation, just for him.
The pillows were on top of thick padding, lush comforters, silken sheets. A basket full of—
His face heated, and Donghae eased himself down, holding out his hands for Henry to follow him.
“Who helped you set this up?”
“A couple of good fairies,” Donghae teased. Shoes forgotten, the scent was of their food, and candle wax. He’d rather have smelled Donghae. Soap, cologne. Biting his lip, when he realized that Donghae’s eyes were lightly rimmed. When Henry had let on that he found Donghae in eyeliner too hot to resist, he hadn’t realized he’d been giving Donghae dangerous information.
But he wasn’t as hungry as he thought, with Donghae glancing up at him. And they stood together.
Donghae’s mouth pushed up against his, a sound of irritation when Henry had to lower his head to fully meet him. Henry didn’t care. Henry liked that, and not just because he was perverse and knew that Donghae was bothered by it. Donghae, and there was no convincing him differently, was built perfectly. He knew it, because he was the one whose fingers fumbled down Donghae’s shirt buttons, pushing it back with the suit jacket to reveal Donghae’s shoulders and chest.
His breathing was harsh, and they’d barely even kissed. Donghae’s height didn’t matter. He was just distilled…hotness. And Henry barely kept himself from gasping as Donghae worked open his pants. Despite the romance around them, it was want between them, then.
“You know what this is?” Donghae asked again, before sucking a mark into Henry’s newly bared shoulder.
Henry glanced at the table and grasped Donghae’s hips. “I can guess.”
The commotion as Donghae’s pants were shoved down - no underwear which had him hissing and Donghae went smug - and sinking into the soft padding on his elbows with Donghae beneath him. Soft light over his skin, too far from the flickering, hair flopping. Donghae’s hand rand own the bare skin of his back and he almost shivered closer, meeting Donghae’s parted mouth.
“You’re it,” Donghae said after kissing a zig-zagged line to Henry’s ear.
You’re it. The only one.
“Donghae.”
How many times had they walked, and Donghae had snugged him up close with a hand around his waist as they walked, or kissed his shoulder in bed. Donghae, who loved to have fun, and whose eyes went soft and and jaw tight when he was sad.
Donghae, who’d done all of this…for him.
They’d done the hard and raunchy fuck, as well as sweetly loving. Especially when pressed, he’d never been very good with words. Maybe he could get Donghae a card. But he could also show him.
Just like he was being invited to. Donghae’s hand slid up his neck, into his hair, and Henry kissed him. The faint hint of a breath mint on Donghae’s tongue, and the imagined chill of it had Henry shivering. Another time, he’d have asked Donghae to prep himself. Loving the look of concentration that darkened Donghae’s face as his fingers slid inside himself. They were too used to each other for it to be more than a sexy show intended to spread a little bit more slickness. But it was anticipation, for Henry, to feel Donghae tighten around his fingers and know just how it would feel around his cock. Too hard almost even to think, with Donghae’s skin glowing, necklace taunting him from Donghae’s chest.
And Donghae’s body gave to him, right then, until he was gasping against Donghae’s jaw and trying not to just race to the end that Donghae’s body was promising him. The height he had, it meant nothing in bed, with Donghae wrestling him for kisses, or curving over his back and taking him. His cock twitched at the thought, and he wanted, even as he stroked in and out and made Donghae moan. Donghae’s wicked hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He loved to hear Donghae beg, when the point at which it went from this feels so good to the desperate urge to come. It didn’t usually take long. Their minds and bodies knew what it felt like, knew what they were working towards.
“Henry, fuck. Harder,” Donghae urged, almost as soon as he wished for it. “I love you. Fuck. Please.”
Words from Donghae’s mouth that would’ve made a saint hard.
“I love you,” he hissed into Donghae’s hair, and braced himself to do exactly as Donghae asked. Faster. Make him come. Donghae, hard between their bellies, his hand stroking as they shared licking little kisses that was nothing but an echo of what was happening between them.
Donghae’s throat began to rumble, like a motor revving, stroking quick, fingers digging into Henry’s shoulder. Henry helped, short, sharp thrusts that had Donghae’s head thrashing and then he was coming over his own belly as Henry watched. The scent of Donghae’s sweat, and come, his kiss, and moans, and Henry let himself follow.
Forehead on the point of Donghae’s shoulder as his body throbbed, he sighed out a long breath and felt sweat trickle down his chest. Donghae was still in some purring wonderland, and it made him grin. Hey, he’d gotten to give something back to Donghae after all.
“That food sure smells good,” he said, kissing where his head had been and waiting for Donghae’s eyes to open. He was mostly teasing, though he could be hungry if Donghae was. Or if he wasn’t. But when Donghae’s eyes did open, and their eyes met, his heart did a funny thing.
“Thank you,” Henry told him. “You are too.” And meant it.
The food could be warmed later. Instead, they napped together in a room lit by candles, in a nest on the floor that Donghae had built for them.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Pairings: Siwon/Han Geng, Eunhyuk/Donghae, Henry/Donghae
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut
Summary: Various smutlets with prompt info marked before each one, so pay attention!
A/N: These haven't been edited besides my own eyes trying, so please excuse any mistakes.
***
Prompt: Siwon/Han Geng - spaceship AU
***
Han Geng was trained for pleasure. Siwon knew it from the moment they’d met, and when a year later, he’d successfully negotiated a contract to haul Han Geng with them to various locations to meet with his clients. It put money in Siwon’s pocket, which meant money to be spent on the ship itself.
Siwon had not, as Han Geng’s overseer suggested, sampled the wares. He was not peddling Han Geng, did not negotiate on his behalf, or bring him business.
But it had taken little enough time to be glad he had not taken that offer. It hadn’t been the time he’d had to beat down one of Han Geng’s clients, leaving Siwon injured, bloody and Han Geng bruised and angry at the client’s audacity.
It had been later, when Han Geng had hugged him, thanked him.
He’d nearly kissed Han Geng then, a moment that had stuck in both their minds. Siwon knew then, that he was in desperate trouble.
***
“I knew someone like him once,” Kyuhyun said. “I left him, because I had no choice. Someday, who knows. But you could get him out of it.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Siwon argued. “I can’t buy him out. We barely cover the ship repairs.”
“You could buy him out. He could buy himself out. Sell his ship.”
“He needs that,” Siwon scoffed. “And it’s not his to sell.”
“Not if he needs you more. Sell it, claim it was stolen. Buy him out. You’ll take a hit on the price if the owner has to keep it hidden awhile, but you could do it.”
“Why do I keep you around?” Siwon asked.
“I’m the best navigator there is,” Kyuhyun said, grinning.
***
It stuck in his brain.
“What if I told you we could buy you out?”
Han Geng’s eyebrows raised. “I’d ask what you’ve been drinking. Or what cache you had remembered.”
“I was talking to Kyuhyun.”
It was arousing to him to watch Han Geng’s mind work, frowning as Siwon laid out Kyuhyun’s thoughts, and his own. He’d taken two days, thinking. He knew one man, he trusted. They were scarce, and most would sell Siwon out in a heartbeat.
In theory, the more Han Geng worked, the closer he got to being free. But in reality, people like Han Geng never got free unless someone came up with a sum to buy them outright.
“What would you expect to receive after I was free?” Han Geng asked.
“It’s your money doing it, so what would I receive?”
“I have almost no skills. Once free, if I stayed here on the ship, then what? The crew would grumble if I was just weight to be hauled.”
Siwon scowled. “You underestimate the crew. They think highly of you. But you could find your place. If you wanted a place with me, you have it.”
“So your lover would be my position.” Han Geng slid onto Siwon’s lap. “If that is all you want, you could have it any time.”
Siwon grasped Han Geng’s sides. “You know that’s not all I want.” That was not all either of them had wanted.
The night Han Geng had broken his heart, they had been planetside, wrapped together in a blanket in front of a small fire. When Han Geng confessed he dreamed of being held by the same person more than once. Siwon had held him, and that had been all he’d done. With a gun poised beside his knee, and Han Geng dreaming against him. Months ago.
“Silk,” Siwon said, slipping back to the moment and finally noting what his hands were touching against Han Geng’s sides. “Is that real silk?”
It was hard to tell, and certainly Siwon had been in contact with a lot of synthetic silk. But the feel was different. It was like soft air under his fingers, and Han Geng smiled.
“Yes, it’s real. It was a gift.”
“You could buy out a big chunk of your contract just selling these.”
“You’d sell my clothes, too? You don’t like me in them?”
“I do!” Siwon scrambled to rectify his mistake, until he realized that Han Geng was teasing.
“I’ve been with a lot of people who didn’t want to share me.”
“They weren’t in love with you.”
“They were by the time I was done with them,” Han Geng said.
He was silent, because he knew Han Geng knew what he meant. What Siwon felt, what they both felt, had nothing to do with Han Geng’s talents.
“If we do this, if it takes too long, can you promise not to be angry if there are others?”
Siwon shook his head. “No, I can’t. And that’s why we can’t, until you’re free to make your own decisions.”
“You have no idea how long that might take!”
“I don’t want you for just one night. You’re a part of my crew, my life. I want you in my bed, and I want you to stay because you want to stay with me. Not because I’m being paid to keep you.” Siwon let his hands slide from Han Geng’s sides.
Han Geng grabbed one, their fingers tight together. “You know I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
With anyone else.
“Then we’ll work fast.”
***
Siwon found a box half full of silk clothing in his room the next day. He knew what it was, an offering.
It was sentiment that had him drawing out his favorite piece, a red and black robe that he had seen Han Geng in several times. It had made him want, and he knew Han Geng loved it. He folded it, set it aside. He would not keep it if it meant Han Geng was owned for one more second, but it did not have to be sold first.
***
Han Geng waited for him, clad in silk. The second ship was gone, hidden, stolen. It had only been on loan to Han Geng from the man who owned his contract, but there were always ways of getting rid of things. The money filtered through jobs, planets. It took weeks, a lucky break. So much paperwork for a stolen ship, as Han Geng worked in the meantime in borrowed quarters.
It burned Siwon to know they had the funds to procure Han Geng’s freedom, and at the same time could not use them.
But they finally had been able to. Han Geng’s yearly return to be counted, checked. It was the only time he could bid for his freedom, and Siwon had been beside him.
There had been a celebratory dinner on the ship the night they knew Han Geng was free, and Siwon had been called to look at a leaky air system directly after. Constant maintenance, vigilance. It had been a strange bolt to come loose, was all. Stranger still to be noticed. But he’d repaired it, and checked the length of the vent for good measure.
Han Geng had been on his mind for the whole of the repair, but finding Han Geng in his room, sitting on his bed, had been far from what he’d expected. Things had been tense between them, ever since Han Geng’s ship had been sold. Siwon, unsure of what Han Geng would choose once he had the ability to. Whether he would choose Siwon, or find a different ship. But what he didn’t want was to pressure Han Geng. Han Geng knew he was wanted.
And he was there.
“We’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?” Han Geng asked.
“Yes,” Siwon said. And he breathed in. It was imagination that had him scenting Han Geng in the air, in the warmth of the room.
“You kept this for me,” Han Geng said, as Siwon came even with him on the bed.
“It suits you.”
“Join me?”
He could feel Han Geng’s eyes on him, as he stripped off his shirt. Licking his lips, and half wondering if he should leave his trousers on. The length of Han Geng’s bare legs beneath the robe, his arched neck as he looked up at Siwon.
But he kept his underwear on, small enough armor. But he’d barely sat down, twisting to turn toward Han Geng, when a thud sounded from the ship somewhere. Siwon stared over his shoulder, trying to listen and see if the sound was repeated.
“Well, we’re not exploding. That’s a good sign,” he said, smiling at Han Geng. He reached, hand tentative as he ran his thumb along Han Geng’s jaw. “You’re here because you want to be.”
It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement, but that didn’t keep Han Geng’s eyes from softening.
“Because I’ve wanted to be here for a long time. And you can finally believe that.”
“I knew,” and Siwon winced. “That wasn’t a secret either of us kept. But I knew if I touched you, knowing someone else would come next would kill me. As long as I knew you weren’t mine— I don’t need to own you. But when you’re with me…”
“Shh. I know. Siwon…”
That was a plea. And his hand notched into Han Geng’s waist, nuzzling into Han Geng’s face. The softest kiss against Han Geng’s cheek, their noses meeting. And it was Han Geng who moved them, pulling Siwon’s shoulder, pulling Siwon’s mouth against his. There was finesse to it, the art of moving together, finding out how lip fit to lip. He wanted to be patient, he tried for it. Inhaling, pleading. Until Han Geng made a soft sound, deep in his throat. Silken, low, and needing.
He parted them only for a moment, undoing the belt of Han Geng’s robe and exposing skin it had been almost a year since he’d seen. But then, Han Geng hadn’t been meaning to show him, hadn’t meant to make him want. And beneath the robe, there was nothing but Han Geng. Cloth giving way to warm skin as Han Geng’s shoulders rose and shed it. And then they were curling together, skin to skin.
They had waited too long.
He growled, shuddered as Han Geng’s nails scraped across his back, and he fought for Han Geng’s mouth, as Han Geng pressed back. The tease of Han Geng’s tongue, his teeth. The shimmer of his skin under Siwon’s hands, and the proof of his arousal.
“What do you want?” Siwon asked.
“You in me. I have so much I want to do— But I want, I want—“
“Yes,” Siwon almost whispered, his voice too hoarse for anything else.
Yes, as Han Geng gripped him, moved him. Moved him so that he could get one slim, strong arm around Siwon’s neck and hold him for a kiss that had Siwon’s soul turning to jelly. It was of lovers long parted. If anything in the whole exhausting day had made him question what was real, Han Geng’s fingers stroking his neck, and lips meeting his would have grounded him. After a moment, Han Geng’s head dropped back, considering Siwon.
“I have been with men who wanted to abuse me. Who used me for nothing but their own pleasure. I’ve been with ones who wanted nothing more than to see me spill for them, as many times as I could. What kind of man are you?”
Siwon cupped his face, letting their lips be parted by little more than breaths. “I want everything you want to give me. And to give you everything I dreamed. I want your pleasure, and I want my own. Is that too much?”
“Not too much. I’ve seen you naked a few times, when you were hurt.” Han Geng bit his lip, and Siwon felt it. “I imagined it was you, sometimes. That is the last thing we’re supposed to do.”
Siwon smiled down at him. “Then I’ll try to be better than they were.”
“You need only to breathe to accomplish that.” And there was some embarrassment, even as Han Geng’s body arched for him.
And he would do more than breathe.
But Han Geng slipped a vial from under the pillow and wet his hands.
“For you,” Han Geng said. “I’m already ready.”
And Siwon’s mind gurgled.
He had to school his face as Han Geng’s cool, wet hands slid over him. Had he not been hard already, Han Geng’s touch would have rocked him. As it was, it nearly broke him. The look of concentration, the curving smile of satisfaction. He liked what he felt, and so did Siwon, running his hands up Han Geng’s thighs. Siwon had never, ah, had cause to doubt his manhood but that Han Geng, of all men, would be pleased—
“Will you hold the others against me?”
There had me, and women. There had been more than Siwon had cared to count, but also many he had not lowered his attention to. He’d long reconciled the conflict of his feelings to Han Geng’s place. No longer, as Han Geng lifted his hips, and guided Siwon to him.
“There were no others,” Siwon told him, and slid inside him.
None that mattered. None that would make him take that smile off of Han Geng’s face. And there would be doubt, too. Han Geng was far from naive.
Han Geng was warm, sleek, body both tight and giving as Siwon uttered half-spoken curses. His knees finding purchase, hands tight on Han Geng’s hips. He’d found his place, he’d mark it.
The man he’d waited years for was staring back at him.
It was the most physical act, bowing over Han Geng’s body, meeting those hips thrust for thrust. Han Geng’s gasps, the grasping of Siwon’s shoulders. Hands racing down his sides and up his chest. Lips clinging to his, sucking them. It was a race to madness, like a tremble in his bones when he opened his eyes to Han Geng. When Han Geng strained to meet him, moaning against his neck. Hand grasping at the pillow as though it would hold him, and Siwon covered it with his own. Holding it, pressing it. Raising up higher for a new angle, new speed as Han Geng cried out. It was selfish that he had done it to make it feel better for him, but somehow, he’d done the same for Han Geng.
“Will you come for me?” Siwon ground out, wiping sweat off of his chin.
Han Geng laughed, breathless. And shameless, as his hand reached, forcing Siwon’s to follow it, only to watch Han Geng take a solid, steady stroke.
“If you say please,” Han Geng teased him.
The Han Geng that filled him with joy, the one who made him laugh, was his friend. That was the man in bed with him. The man who was flushed, hard and eager.
“Please. Please. Please,” Siwon said, punctuating his words with kisses up Han Geng’s neck. And he missed watching Han Geng’s face, but it was the effect he wanted. Speaking low and close to Han Geng’s ear. “Please. Come for me. Han Geng.”
Siwon hissed, as Han Geng’s body bucked. The fire had already been lit, but the heat was spreading. He could see it in Han Geng’s eyes, feel it as his body tightened, pleaded. He glanced down to see Han Geng stroking himself and nearly came right there. Siwon. Siwon. One hand a painful fist as he watched Han Geng’s face and reached the point at which he could go no faster, climb no higher.
He came first. Han Geng’s body, the scent of him, his sounds. His whole body was seized with it, gasping and conscious of nothing but the high and the release.
Han Geng’s moans like a caress, the desperate drag of air. The scent of him.
The fingers that were curling into his hair, tugging almost painfully on his scalp. His face to Han Geng’s, as Han Geng stroked himself.
“For me,” Han Geng gasped, and Siwon kissed him, still struggling for breath himself.
And Han Geng came for him, body tight. Breaking the kiss to breathe and moan and curse against Siwon’s face.
Han Geng. Han Geng, sweaty at the temples, along his throat. Swallowing, breathing as his eyes cleared. The hand Han Geng had gripped his hair with loosened, and Siwon took it, kissing it.
And Han Geng laughed at him. It was so absurd, so unreal. And yet, there they were.
Siwon’s discarded shirt cleaned up the bulk of the mess, but it was the only thing he could reach without leaving the bed. Stretched out against Han Geng’s side, he felt something beyond satisfaction.
“We’re equals now,” Siwon said.
Han Geng turned his head a bit more. “You’re still my captain.”
“We’re equals here.”
That was the important thing, had ever been the most important. Han Geng could leave him at any time, but Siwon needed to know that. He also needed to know that Han Geng stayed because he could, not because he had to. Han Geng’s value had no price. And if they had to run, they would run together.
“Was it everything you hope it would be?” Han Geng asked.
“No,” Siwon said, kissing Han Geng’s shoulder before smiling up at him. “It was just the start of it.”
Han Geng pressed his face close to Siwon’s, and Siwon wanted to kiss his closed eyelids, see what Han Geng hid from him there. And he watched as Han Geng bit his lip, the smile curving a bit.
“You’ll teach me to fly the ship?”
He’d have to fight Kyuhyun for it, but maybe. It’d be helpful to have another person with as much knowledge as Han Geng had or could learn on board. But there was time to figure it out, Siwon thought as he pulled the blanket up over them, and ogled Han Geng’s hip and leg as he did so.
They were still wound together, when they slept. And though Han Geng had quarters of his own, the fact that he was naked in Siwon’s bed, seemed to indicate he was staying. And Siwon liked that very much.
He didn’t wake alone.
***
Prompt: Han Geng/Siwon - (Where Han Geng tops Siwon). You can make it playful or serious, but it’s tough to write.
***
He should’ve hated it, the reminder of the distance Siwon put between them.
He loved it.
He loved the control, and he feared the implications.
Siwon wasn’t gay, you see. He’d never been gay, would have expired on the spot if someone had tried to imply he was. He wasn’t gay because his precious straight penis had never been inserted into a gay man’s contagious gay ass. Which meant, of course, he had plausible deniability. He could lie to himself as long as there were hours in the day.
A mouth was different, obviously. Fucking Han Geng’s mouth was fair game, eagerly accepted. That wasn’t sex, that was just…sharing. Sharing the benefits of his manhood.
That was how Han Geng thought of it. Siwon never said those things. And to his credit, he did not make Han Geng feel like less of a person for it - even when he was the one fucking Siwon’s mouth. At least that standard ran both ways. Siwon was hungry for it, would have sucked him all day, and that was why it gave him that twinge.
Siwon wasn’t gay. He was just being fucked by a gay man, and loving it.
Sometimes he thought Siwon would love for him to tie him up, and just do whatever he wanted to him. Then Siwon wouldn’t be responsible for his choices. They’d have to have safe words, and boundaries. He could try and see what Siwon felt like inside him, and Siwon would just say he’d had no choice, a one time thing. That became twice, or three times, and began to erode at Siwon’s confidence that he could change his mind any time and walk away.
Han Geng didn’t trust that. He didn’t push it. He didn’t ask for it, even if he knew in his gut it was what Siwon wanted. The status quo was hard enough to keep with the occasional crises, when Siwon would look at him with such sadness, and accusation, and fear.
If only he didn’t love Han Geng so much, if only Han Geng weren’t so attractive to him.
He tried not to let it give him a complex, but every time it was a blow to the stomach. Siwon never meant it to be, he knew that. Siwon nearly crushed him after those time, breathing into his skin. It was broken, and messed up, and he wouldn’t have turned Siwon away. Despite the worry, he loved Siwon, too. And he harbored some stupid hope, naive, irrational, that Siwon would wake up one day and lose his inhibitions and tell him to fuck labels, they loved each other no matter what.
But until then, they had what they had.
What they had was good, dented, but strong. Hours of kisses sprawled against Siwon’s chest. If Siwon’s body was perfect to the eyes, it was even more perfect to the touch.
Even fresh from the shower he still smelled faintly of musk.
And on his bed, Siwon was beneath him. Silken slides, the condom Siwon had rolled on him, the sweat dripping off his nose.
But he liked it best when Siwon was on his knees, begging Han Geng to take him. Even his dirty talk was sweet and somehow distant, so many pleas, and endearments, and repetitions of his name, but Han Geng heard it for what it was. Watching Siwon’s shoulders bunch as he steadied himself against Han Geng’s thrusts, moans silken and dirty from Siwon’s throat. Hands bunched in the covers, hands that had jerked Han Geng off, cradled his face, held his hand. A hundred touches to his back, his shoulder, that told him he was loved.
Even if Siwon couldn’t give him everything.
And Siwon was hard. So hard, as though the knowledge he was being fucked was lighting him up inside. Fucking back, spreading his legs, gripping at Han Geng’s thigh to get him deeper. He always made sure Siwon came first, selfish, for Siwon to know why he’d felt that. Because Han Geng was in him, not just some random hand job.
That night was no different, Siwon’s cock twitching in his hand as Han Geng hissed and stroked harder. Almost losing control of his hips as he gripped and teased.
“Fuck, Siwon, now,” he said, and closed his hand tight to give Siwon the sensation that he was fucking something. Someone. Not that he was bitter, not that he’d have turned it down. Maybe some day.
Siwon complied, and came.
But with semen cooling on the sheets, he gripped Siwon’s hips, admired the perfect body, and took his own reward as Siwon moaned for him.
Siwon had stripped away his confidence and control.
And then handed it all right back.
***
Prompt: Eunhyuk/Donghae - fae!au, business!au. I have a recent thing for business(*hyuk being bent over a desk*) and...wings.
***
The day the new vice-president was announced was a day of change. Sitting at the long conference table, then standing, then bowing, as Lee Donghae was introduced with a smile. They were not the board, but they were the ones who would be under him. Their new vice-president who had not worked a day with the company.
There had been scoffs, jokes, wondering if the boss wanted to run the company into the ground so badly as to install his only son.
But when Hyukjae saw Donghae, he knew better.
***
“I hear I’m to report to you for a few weeks,” Donghae said, falling into step with him not long after the meeting. “My father says you’ll be the best one to shadow.”
“Does a vice-president report to an underling?” Hyukjae wondered. Then cursed his mouth, as that sounded a bit too much like a put-down.
“They do if they want to orient themselves to the company as fast as possible. I’ve spent time in my father’s other businesses, but he wants me to ultimately succeed him here. So I really appreciate your help. According to your file, we’re the same age.”
“Though you’re my boss. I’ll be glad to help you out. Just come to me.”
And not just that. The old man was nothing out of the ordinary. A human of decent birth who’d built up a decent empire.
But Donghae was not human. Either his mother or had married advantageously. Or he was a changeling.
Either way, he was fae.
***
At first he didn’t know if Donghae realized there was anything different about him. Some kept their power locked up so tight as to be almost imperceptible. Donghae didn’t do quite as good of a job, a subtle sheen, a brightness about his smile at times giving him away. Things that drew humans in, made them trust. Things that he was immune to.
But they had worked together for two weeks, Donghae invading his office, trading jokes, frowning at his laptop as they prepared for meetings, before Hyukjae knew.
“What color are yours?” Donghae asked, brushing Hyukjae’s back as they waited for the elevator.
“What?” he asked, looking up a bit too sharply.
And Donghae smiled and stepped forward as the doors opened.
***
Three months, and Donghae had settled in. He had a bright mind, something not unexpected. In his power suit, speaking to the board, to clients, to their staff, he was firm and charismatic. Hyukjae, even knowing what Donghae was, was impressed.
And not just for the way the expensively tailored pants fit Donghae’s ass.
But that didn’t distract him from his goal: promotion. He would never own the company, but he could be in Donghae’s spot one day as vice-president. Lucrative, powerful. Together, they could grow the company from its small and growing roots, to something enormous. It was all there. Hyukjae had felt it from his very first day.
***
“Why are you here?” Donghae asked.
“To work?” Hyukjae responded, his six month status to Donghae sitting unfinished.
“You know what I mean.”
Donghae, tie undone and collar unfastened, sat on the edge of Hyukjae’s desk.
“To make money? To observe?”
“To gain power?” Donghae asked.
Hyukjae leaned back. “If I earn it.”
“But you know you’ll always be under me. I could move you to a different company. You could be CEO one day.”
“But I’d still be under you, sir,” Hyukjae said.
Donghae stood, looking down Hyukjae’s body. “True. You’ll have that promotion,” he said, and left.
***
“Why would you not want power for yourself?” Donghae asked.
He had called Hyukjae into his office for a meeting. A luxurious office, compared to Hyukjae’s small one, with wide swaths of windows. But it was dark, most all employees long gone. He was there because he had to be, and it wasn’t for the plush carpet under his feet. They were building to something, but he didn’t quite know what. Donghae had not stayed seated long, standing by his desk, across the corner from Hyukjae. And Hyukjae sighed.
“You don’t understand. The house is not stronger than its foundation. You’ll rely on your vice-president.”
“And you intend it to be you?”
“With what we both are? How could it not be?” Hyukjae asked, laughing.
“I could fire you. I could find a way.” But Donghae sounded more thoughtful, stepping close. “You said you would stay under me. How many ways did you mean?”
Donghae gripped his tie, but did not pull. It was not threat. It was an offer. Perhaps, a trade. For them to size each other up, show their true power, what could not be shown in a boardroom. It was something they had been working toward from the very first day, locking eyes across the boardroom.
Hyukjae smiled down. “Lock the door, and let’s see.”
Donghae’s hand fell. “Then drop your pants.”
Just like that, then, he thought, fumbling open his belt. And then on a thought, shrugging out of his jacket as well, and loosening his collar. He’d need to be able to breathe, no matter what they were doing. For some reason he’d thought Donghae would want him on his knees. Maybe another time.
But he fought the urge to tug down the ends of shirt. There was a couch. The desk. And he could practically feel Donghae looking at his thighs as he approached.
Strong hands turned his hips, pushed him, until he was facedown above the desk.
“Nice,” Donghae said, stroking his hips and ass. “Now show me.”
“Show you?”
“What you are. Show me your true self.”
The back of his shirt ripped in two, half strangling him a moment, but it was clear what Donghae wanted.
It was not as though the wings were hidden. They were forever a part of himself. And it was not as though that revealing them would have been impeded by the shirt, he thought grumpily. Donghae had just wanted to see more. Have more control. It took nothing more than a thought to make them visible. His true self, as Donghae had said. Light as air, and substantial at the same time. They were pure magic.
His wings were gold and black, a shower of sunlight and contrast, blinding to those who were not fae. He looked back, startled as Donghae’s wings covered his, a cap of gold and green along his.
It marked them as equals.
“I will be your master in business,” Donghae told him, hand steady on his back. “But like this, we command no one.”
But command or not, Donghae knew control. He knew it, not by force, but by what Donghae did next. It was control, by hitting Hyukjae at his basest level. The press of lips between his wings, along his spine.
A tongue tracing a too-sensitive edge.
He held his breath, almost preternaturally sensing Donghae’s teeth before they scraped along skin. Too close to his wing. It would not tear - could not from something so insignificant as a bite, but they had been hidden so long, used to only air.
He had not had a fae lover in the span of several human lifetimes. And Donghae knew every weakness.
He gasped, senses hit too hard as Donghae’s licked his back, hand closing around his erection, just as his pants slid the rest of the way - and the buckle jangled on the floor. At the jolt, the startle, Donghae laughed.
“You’re so hard, you’re aching!” Donghae said, his voice almost a touch surprised.
“You know how sensitive our wings are,” Hyukjae accused.
“Yeah, but I didn’t— Yeah. Hyukjae… Why are you here?”
“To work?” Hyukjae asked, confused. Addled, even, because Donghae hadn’t let go of his cock.
“No.” And even more distracting, Donghae got closer, bending into Hyukjae’s body, and hard against Hyukjae’s ass. “Here. With me.”
His face heated and he dropped it low, as though Donghae was in danger of seeing. “Because I want you?”
“Why?” Donghae pressed.
“Because I like you, you ass! Are you going to fuck me or not?”
Okay, so impatience hadn’t really worked. Donghae was almost bawling with laughter against him, chest distractingly flattening him to the desk and moving against his wings.
“And you’re heavy,” Hyukjae added. “You can be under me next time.”
Donghae seemed to get hold of himself, pressing a sloppy kiss between Hyukjae’s wings. “I like you, too. And I’ll look forward to that.”
It was magic that slicked Donghae, and neither minded. Alone, together, such things weren’t dangerous. The lube that wouldn’t run dry he thought, almost chuckled, and thought better of it as Donghae filled him.
His hands slid on papers as he tried to brace himself. To keep his groin from sliding painfully up and against the desk edge. They fell as he batted them, the mess not as important as adjusting to Donghae’s stroking. Both that of his hips and hand along Hyukjae’s length, and also of his nose along the sensitive middle of his back.
Had Donghae been in the possession of an extra hand or two, he imagined he’d have been at Hyukjae’s nipples as well. He seemed to be hitting every other point of pleasure.
The edges of Donghae’s shirt against his skin. Next time on a flat surface, where they could touch. Fuck, they hadn’t even kissed. And he groaned imagining it, to feel Donghae’s nose running against his.
“What?” Donghae asked, wanting to know.
“You didn’t even kiss me.”
Though that came out plaintive, high and strained as Donghae braced himself, took a new rhythm.
“I will,” Donghae promised. “I won’t stop kissing you. Hyukjae.”
His voice changed, rough on Hyukjae’s name, and the words he spoke then had no meaning in the language they had been conversing. They were ancient words. Ones of lust, that sent a thrum through his blood, fingers digging into the desk, even his wings pushing to steady himself.
And they were words of promise, gasped against the skin of Hyukjae’s back.
It was not for a day, not just for one single moment. Promises written in words, and the rubbing of their wings. A connection as old as the stones.
He whispered Hyukjae’s true name, one he had never uttered since meeting Donghae, and Hyukjae came. Left shuddering into the desk, as Donghae took him, kept him, until Donghae had found his own pleasure. And he was wrung out, Donghae covering him, draping him wings and all.
He didn’t ask how Donghae had known his name. Maybe Donghae had always known. He would be beside Donghae when Donghae took over the company, and they would see.
And as soon as he had strength in his arms, the ability to do more than smile and breathe with his cheek pressed to the desk, he was taking Donghae up on those kisses.
***
Prompt: Donghae/Henry - "Sukira Q: What special romantic event would you do? Donghae: When I am getting married or when the girl that I really like appears, I would put candles on a red carpet for an area of about 100m to 150m…YS: It's very dangerous, what if it catches fire?"
***
He couldn’t feel the heat from the candles, but they shone off the polished surface of his shoes, dozens of them stretching out in front of him.
Lock the doors behind you, Donghae had texted.
It was an unfamiliar hotel, and the hotel staff guided him, disappearing discreetly as he eased the door open.
He almost forgot to lock the heavy double doors. The gigantic ballroom alight from heavy chandeliers, and a dark red carpet stretching from the door, into the room. Candles burning, several per step as he followed the path to where Donghae stood. In a suit, just as he’d asked Henry to dress, watching Henry approach.
When the person I like appears, I would put candles on a red carpet.
It was as if he was a celebrity, but they weren’t, to each other. He licked his lips, and kept walking.
It was nothing like what he’d been expecting, dancing light and Donghae’s smile. A special dinner, he’d thought to expect that. A surprise party. It felt like his knees got stiff as he walked, to keep himself from stopping and just trying to process what it was that Donghae was telling him.
Donghae’s head tipped up as Henry stepped up to him.
“You made it.”
“Yeah,” Henry breathed. “This—“
“You know what this is?”
He studied Donghae’s eyes in the light from the chandeliers. “Yeah.”
The others had teased him endlessly for it. How dangerous it was. Henry could have told them that the candles were on heavy, wide bases, but he wasn’t thinking of safety. He was thinking of Donghae’s mouth. How soft it looked. How soft it felt, right then, in greeting. It really was Donghae, lips tight together and curving up before helplessly laughing.
If Henry knew, that was all that mattered, that smile seemed to say. He didn’t even know what to say, clutching inside as Donghae took his hand.
“Let’s eat, if you’re hungry.”
He was. And for the first time, he saw the table set up, the covered dishes, and two candles burning there as well.
“This is…so much,” Henry said. Beyond the table, pillows, but that was all he glanced at. Too focused on the food, still warm on hot plates, and on Donghae sitting across from him. He wanted to ask, badly, what the occasion was. If there even was an occasion. It was like a hundred other dates, or just times where they sat with the others, eating, joking. In nicer clothes, with different lighting. So much preparation, just for him.
The pillows were on top of thick padding, lush comforters, silken sheets. A basket full of—
His face heated, and Donghae eased himself down, holding out his hands for Henry to follow him.
“Who helped you set this up?”
“A couple of good fairies,” Donghae teased. Shoes forgotten, the scent was of their food, and candle wax. He’d rather have smelled Donghae. Soap, cologne. Biting his lip, when he realized that Donghae’s eyes were lightly rimmed. When Henry had let on that he found Donghae in eyeliner too hot to resist, he hadn’t realized he’d been giving Donghae dangerous information.
But he wasn’t as hungry as he thought, with Donghae glancing up at him. And they stood together.
Donghae’s mouth pushed up against his, a sound of irritation when Henry had to lower his head to fully meet him. Henry didn’t care. Henry liked that, and not just because he was perverse and knew that Donghae was bothered by it. Donghae, and there was no convincing him differently, was built perfectly. He knew it, because he was the one whose fingers fumbled down Donghae’s shirt buttons, pushing it back with the suit jacket to reveal Donghae’s shoulders and chest.
His breathing was harsh, and they’d barely even kissed. Donghae’s height didn’t matter. He was just distilled…hotness. And Henry barely kept himself from gasping as Donghae worked open his pants. Despite the romance around them, it was want between them, then.
“You know what this is?” Donghae asked again, before sucking a mark into Henry’s newly bared shoulder.
Henry glanced at the table and grasped Donghae’s hips. “I can guess.”
The commotion as Donghae’s pants were shoved down - no underwear which had him hissing and Donghae went smug - and sinking into the soft padding on his elbows with Donghae beneath him. Soft light over his skin, too far from the flickering, hair flopping. Donghae’s hand rand own the bare skin of his back and he almost shivered closer, meeting Donghae’s parted mouth.
“You’re it,” Donghae said after kissing a zig-zagged line to Henry’s ear.
You’re it. The only one.
“Donghae.”
How many times had they walked, and Donghae had snugged him up close with a hand around his waist as they walked, or kissed his shoulder in bed. Donghae, who loved to have fun, and whose eyes went soft and and jaw tight when he was sad.
Donghae, who’d done all of this…for him.
They’d done the hard and raunchy fuck, as well as sweetly loving. Especially when pressed, he’d never been very good with words. Maybe he could get Donghae a card. But he could also show him.
Just like he was being invited to. Donghae’s hand slid up his neck, into his hair, and Henry kissed him. The faint hint of a breath mint on Donghae’s tongue, and the imagined chill of it had Henry shivering. Another time, he’d have asked Donghae to prep himself. Loving the look of concentration that darkened Donghae’s face as his fingers slid inside himself. They were too used to each other for it to be more than a sexy show intended to spread a little bit more slickness. But it was anticipation, for Henry, to feel Donghae tighten around his fingers and know just how it would feel around his cock. Too hard almost even to think, with Donghae’s skin glowing, necklace taunting him from Donghae’s chest.
And Donghae’s body gave to him, right then, until he was gasping against Donghae’s jaw and trying not to just race to the end that Donghae’s body was promising him. The height he had, it meant nothing in bed, with Donghae wrestling him for kisses, or curving over his back and taking him. His cock twitched at the thought, and he wanted, even as he stroked in and out and made Donghae moan. Donghae’s wicked hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He loved to hear Donghae beg, when the point at which it went from this feels so good to the desperate urge to come. It didn’t usually take long. Their minds and bodies knew what it felt like, knew what they were working towards.
“Henry, fuck. Harder,” Donghae urged, almost as soon as he wished for it. “I love you. Fuck. Please.”
Words from Donghae’s mouth that would’ve made a saint hard.
“I love you,” he hissed into Donghae’s hair, and braced himself to do exactly as Donghae asked. Faster. Make him come. Donghae, hard between their bellies, his hand stroking as they shared licking little kisses that was nothing but an echo of what was happening between them.
Donghae’s throat began to rumble, like a motor revving, stroking quick, fingers digging into Henry’s shoulder. Henry helped, short, sharp thrusts that had Donghae’s head thrashing and then he was coming over his own belly as Henry watched. The scent of Donghae’s sweat, and come, his kiss, and moans, and Henry let himself follow.
Forehead on the point of Donghae’s shoulder as his body throbbed, he sighed out a long breath and felt sweat trickle down his chest. Donghae was still in some purring wonderland, and it made him grin. Hey, he’d gotten to give something back to Donghae after all.
“That food sure smells good,” he said, kissing where his head had been and waiting for Donghae’s eyes to open. He was mostly teasing, though he could be hungry if Donghae was. Or if he wasn’t. But when Donghae’s eyes did open, and their eyes met, his heart did a funny thing.
“Thank you,” Henry told him. “You are too.” And meant it.
The food could be warmed later. Instead, they napped together in a room lit by candles, in a nest on the floor that Donghae had built for them.
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-05 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-05 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-28 10:35 am (UTC)The other SiHan is... closer to home, I guss. And I don't care what 百合愛 says, Geng on top is still making me laugh :D
And a thing for wings is good! I approve~
no subject
Date: 2012-08-05 08:43 pm (UTC)Hehe, it always feels a bit like I'm putting the shoe on the wrong foot but somehow it happens. XD /pats Geng
I love wing fic. ;;;; /rolls around and sighs
no subject
Date: 2012-07-21 03:38 pm (UTC)and the henhae was sweet. XDDDDD
no subject
Date: 2012-08-05 08:53 pm (UTC)Sigh, henhae. XD I just want to package them up in an adorable box. XD~~ <3